Flightless Bird, American Mouth
by Hello Kathryne
Summary: A/U, Pushing the last chapter into a manilla envelope with the other chapters, she closed the fold on it. Complete
1. Clipped

Flightless Bird, American Mouth

--

Alternate Universe. 2010. At twenty seven years old, Courtney Wells is the most successful War Psychologist in the nation. She's written five books and countless case reports on the damaging subject that is War and how it effects the subject in question.

She's worked with every kind of patient, from prisoners of wars to veterans to honorably discharged soldiers, to those on medical leave and even the wives, husbands and children of those who don't come home, and they've been receptive. But when the subject of her sixth book, Duncan, comes in, he... isn't.

--

**I. Clipped Wings**

--

Key:

-- Scene break.

**Flashback**

Back to present.

Courtney was in her office when the door was quickly knocked on, then opened.

"Ms. Wells," said the person opening the door, her assistant, Veronica. "A Mr. Duncan Silver is here."

"Oh, already?" She asked, looking up at the clock. Shoot, time had gotten away from her. Putting her notes to the side, she pulled open her drawer and grabbed his case file, empty except for a picture and a few notes concerning things like name, age, height and what medications he was on.

The picture was that of a haunted looking man, the same age as herself-- somewhat attractive. His hair had been shaved, but then regrown as it was somewhat shaggy, but it stuck up at weird angles as if he didn't know what do with it anymore.

"Well, send him in, then." She said, stretching her arms forward and cracking her knuckles before sitting up, professionally.

He then walked in, the same as his picture. His hair had been somewhat tamed, as it didn't stick up nearly as much. She noted details that weren't there on the picture-- a small scar above his eyebrow, a single earring in the cartillage of his left ear, the thousand yard stare in his eyes, unfocused as he seemed to stare right through her as he sat down on the chair across from her.

She noted that last one specifically.

"Hello, Duncan. I'm Courtney Wells. You can call me Dr. Wells, or Courtney, if you'd like. Okay?" She introduced herself.

He nodded, silently.

"May I call you Duncan?" She asked, looking at his file and writing something down. '_Unresponsive._'

He nodded, still silent.

"Will you say something, please? Why did you join the army, for instance?"

"I had two choices. Prison or the Army." He said, his voice unwaving. It strangely matched the haunted look on his face.

She took another note. '_Subject has criminal past._'

"And you chose the army?" She asked, as if confirming a detail she wasn't quite sure of.

"Yes."

"Why don't you tell me about that?" She asked, tapping her lower lip with her pen.

Duncan took a breath. "Okay. I was nineteen..."

**Picture a nineteen year old delinquent.**

**Now picture a eutopian home, perfect in it's suburb, close enough to the city to commute easily but far enough to reduce the crime rate.**

**Now picture the same home being burgled. By the nineteen delinquent.**

**He was easily caught. Upon facing jail time, he was offered an alternate: The Army.**

**It was obvious what to choose-- the year was 2002, and although the threat of war was imminent, it was better than jail time. Breaking and Entering carried the hefty sentence of 10 years.**

**No sense wasting all that time when he could just train and stay free... **_**for his country.**_

"I see." She said, writing another note down. '_Subject has been in military since age nineteen._'

"It was hard until I started taking it seriously when I was twenty." He finished.

She nodded, smiling slightly. "What compelled you to stay?"

"A sense of... belonging. That and.." He stopped, fingering the ring around his middle finger. "I'd like to leave."

Courtney was taken a back. "Well, you may leave if you choose to do so..."

"I'll come back next week." He said, standing and turning towards the door.

He nodded courteously and left.

Courtney sighed. He had been so close to opening up. But, in an instant, he had stopped responding.

She jotted down her last note for the day. '_Ring is of importance._'


	2. Metal Birds

Flightless Bird, American Mouth

--

Alternate Universe. 2010. At twenty seven years old, Courtney Wells is the most successful War Psychologist in the nation. She's written five books and countless case reports on the damaging subject that is War and how it effects the subject in question.

She's worked with every kind of patient, from prisoners of wars to veterans to honorably discharged soldiers, to those on medical leave and even the wives, husbands and children of those who don't come home, and they've been receptive. But when the subject of her sixth book, Duncan, comes in, he... isn't.

--

**II. Metal Birds**

--

Key:

-- Scene break.

**Flashback**

Back to present.

--

After returning home from the psychologist's office, Duncan Silver realized one thing:

He hated not being in the army. After being honorably discharged after... the incident... he felt no honor in it. In his mind, he only belonged one place, and that was there.

Staring in the mirror, he looked at the notes he had lined the edges of it with. Things like birthdays of family members and passwords for websites lined most of it, but one note stuck out in particular-- it was a piece of plain white paper, not like the lined yellow sheets he had around the house, and it was written in a different hand. It was worn, creases well smoothed and the paper was soft to the touch because of it.

'I Lava You.' It said, playfully next to a picture of a volcano spewing hearts-- unusual for a man to have, much less cherish so much.

**"Hey, Silver." A dark haired man smiled, maybe twenty-six or twenty-seven, a few years older than himself. Dressed in camo pants and a white t-shirt, it was apparent that he just got out of some training, as the white shirt was covered in reddish brown dust. "Lexi gave me this note to give you. I didn't realize we were back in grade school." **

**"You can shut up, Trent." He rolled his eyes, taking the note and sticking it into his pocket. Changing the subject, he asked, "How's Gwen?"**

**"She's good. Emily won an award at school, according to a letter she just sent. Spelling bee. She's only six, man." He said, grinning.**

**Duncan nodded, sticking his hand in his pocket to make sure the note was still there.**

He looked away from it, staring at his own reflection. He wasn't used to having hair, routinely getting it buzzed while in the army. That meant, well, it meant he hadn't had to brush the hair from his eyes since before he was nineteen.

So he shaved it off, covering the bathroom floor and filling the sink with the dark tresses.

--

A week later, he found himself back in the office of "Dr. Courtney Wells." He didn't know why he bothered. She seemed too sympathetic-- so much to the point that it seemed really, excruciatingly fake.

"You shaved your head." She said, somewhat surprise. She noted this on that clipboard she always had.

"Yeah." He responded, gruffly.

After a bit of silence, the only sound being the quiet scratchings of pen on paper, she continued with questions. "What did you do in the army?" She asked, writing something down. He never knew what she wrote, but the way how the first letter she nearly always wrote was an 'S.' He could tell by the curve of the pen. Just like the military doctors. He assumed she was using the word 'Subject' to refer to him.

"I was a pilot." He twisted the ring on his finger again. "In a big metal bird."

She noted his wry sarcasm. "Was that your first choice?"

"Yes." He paused. "It seemed the best job. I'd always kind of dreamed of... flying."

She noted this. Infuriating, really, at least to him. That attention to detail, the attention he could never possess.

**"Ugh, you're so useless, Silver." Said the annoyed voice of who he was standing next to.**

**Duncan would have scowled if not for the person it came from. She was short, but built strongly. Her dark blonde hair would have touched her shoulders if it wasn't for the rubber band holding it up in a pony tail. **

**"Can it, Hiotani." He rolled his eyes, attempting to do what he was told when she pushed him aside and did it herself, her innate attention to every single insignificant detail painfully apparent.**

**She smelled like cigarettes and vanilla.**

"May I see your ring?" She asked, noticing how he kept twirling it around his finger.

"Why?" He asked, looking down at the band. It was a dark grey metal-- dull from the oil of his fingers. It was plain on the outside, as far as she could see.

"I'd just like to see it." She continued, as if it didn't matter anymore to her if she didn't see it or not.

Slipping it off, he reluctantly passed it to her.

Turning it over in her hand, she noticed an engraving on the inside.

'_A.S.H. + D.L.S._'

**It was his first deployment in two years. Returning from the states for his two month leave, the first thing the twenty-five year old did was go to a jewelery store. He picked two rings, both of the same metal but different sizes. They weren't very pretty-- at least not traditionally, but they shone bright, dark metal that glinted and shined in the sun.**

**He had then engraved, both with the same thing. He kept the box with both of them in his front pocket for nearly the entire two months, never forgetting about their presence.**

**It would be a strange proposal, in the scorching hot on an army base, but she had helped him be a better person. She deserved better, he thought, but he wouldn't let him stop from trying.**

Handing it back to him, he returned it to his finger and continued to spin it.

"I'm going to go." He said, looking up to the clock, but really just leaving before she could ask any questions about the ring. "I'll be back next week."

Then he left as he did last week.

Courtney sighed, leaning on her hands. What was wrong with this man?

--

BACKGROUND INFORMATION!

huzzah.

Review, please!


	3. Swan Dive

Flightless Bird, American Mouth

--

Alternate Universe. 2010. At twenty seven years old, Courtney Wells is the most successful War Psychologist in the nation. She's written five books and countless case reports on the damaging subject that is War and how it effects the subject in question.

She's worked with every kind of patient, from prisoners of wars to veterans to honorably discharged soldiers, to those on medical leave and even the wives, husbands and children of those who don't come home, and they've been receptive. But when the subject of her sixth book, Duncan, comes in, he... isn't.

--

**III. Swan Dive**

--

Key:

-- Scene break.

**Flashback**

Back to present.

--

As Courtney twirled her pen in her slim, perfectly manicured fingers, she realized one thing about Duncan Lewis Silver. He was not suited for regular society. He seemed to have taken a swan dive straight after he left the army. She was still unclear of the exact circumstances of which he left-- she was positive, however, that it was not of his own accord.

Brushing back that one irritating strand of mocha hair that wouldn't stay in the bun that she had meticiously put up hours before in front of her mirror, she sighed. Her notes seemed to indicate he was unstable.

He had habit behavior, he seemed to be bottling everything up, and he was highly erratic. He seemed too laid back sometimes, as if it was a facade. Courtney knew laid back. She was the most laid back person she knew, and he was too much of it.

Sipping her coffee, she furrowed her brow. Her notes were handwritten and horribly coordinated-- at least in her expert opinion. She resolved to type them up. She had a color printer, so she could code them just as well as she had on writing paper with her pens-- red, black and blue.

Turning to her computer, she was somewhat infuriated to find that the strand of hair had fallen again. Brushing it back in a somewhat urgent fashion, she had just started typing her notes when her assistant, Veronica, knocked and came in.

"He's here." She said, simply. Courtney looked at her schedule.

"He's three hours early." She raised a brow. Another check for erratic. "Well. Send him in."

"Right." She clicked the door behind her-- unnecessary as Duncan simply opened the door a second later.

"Heya Doc." He said, pulling a pair of silver earbuds from his ears. They look cheap, Courtney notes idly in her mind, Not good for the ears. She also puts another check in the 'Laid Back' catogory.

She could hear the music from the distended buds-- some strange techno song she couldn't care less about.

"It's Benji Hughes." He said, as if reading her mind, although incorrectly. "I don't have much to do, so I go to music stores and listen to CDs."

She smiled tightly. "Do you have a job?" She asked. His schedule seemed to appear as if he didn't.

He shook his head. Another check for laid back. "Not yet. But I could go to college if I wanted." He seemed kind of wistful, running a hand through his regrowing hair. It was kind of patchy, as if it didn't know how to grow back right. Or maybe he had cut it himself and hadn't finished it. "But that seems unlikely."

She nodded, writing something down. Duncan sneered at this, but she didn't notice.

"Well, what do you like to do? Are you any good at anything?" She asked, eyes widening as it left her perfectly glossed lips. "I-- I meant, what are you good at?"

He grinned, seemingly happy to see her slip up. "I didn't know. Flying." He leaned back in his chair, placing his boots-- worn but surprisingly mud free, on her perfectly shined desk. She wasn't completely sure of what kind of wood it was, but she knew two things. 1. It was expensive. 2. It was not a foot rest.

"Please put your feet down." She said, staring first at the bottom of his worn shoes then to his eyes, flat blue with some lingering laughter and sadness as he begrudgingly did as he was told.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked, brow raised.

"Sure." She said, idly turning the pen in her hand. Over and over.

He turned his ring. "When did you get that stick up your ass?"

She frowned, brow furrowed. She refused to answer that-- it was highly inappropriate.

"You know, you could get your pilot's license." She leaned back in her chair, still looking strangely rigid as she did so.

"I guess I could." He shrugged. "I suppose I'd like that."

She smiled. Still terse. "So. Who's A-S-H?" She asked, looking to her legal pad where the initals were circled heavily in red pen.

"...She was my fiance." He said, looking away, at anything and everything but the woman in front of him.

--

Haha! Cliffhanger-- I'm such a bitch. Expect one or two updates a week-- heavy emphasis on the one. School is mondo busy, so I'll be lucky to get one done a week. Be happy for that! :D

I'm going to be writing another story after this one. Would you all rather see:

A Duncan x Courtney reimagining of the movie 'No Reservations'?

A Gwen x Trent reimagining of the movie 'Heathers'?

(A full synopsis is available on wikipedia for this one.)

or a Geoff x Bridgette reimagining of the movie 'Romeo and Juliet'? or 'The Wedding Date'?

I'm leaning towards one of the last two-- they'll most likely all happen, but I'd just have written a Duncan x Courtney, so it seems as if that will be second made or last. I know everyone just loves this couple, but it can get kind of repetitive. :D

Please leave comments and reviews! I love that and they make me want to write even faster for you guys!


	4. Flightless

Flightless Bird, American Mouth

--

Alternate Universe. 2010. At twenty seven years old, Courtney Wells is the most successful War Psychologist in the nation. She's written five books and countless case reports on the damaging subject that is War and how it effects the subject in question.

She's worked with every kind of patient, from prisoners of wars to veterans to honorably discharged soldiers, to those on medical leave and even the wives, husbands and children of those who don't come home, and they've been receptive. But when the subject of her sixth book, Duncan, comes in, he... isn't.

--

**IV. Flightless**

--

Key:

-- Scene break.

**Flashback**

Back to present.

--

"You had a fiance?" She asks, incredulous. It was hard to believe that the man in front of her was once engaged to be married. From what she had seen of marriage and the army, however, is that it didn't always turn out too well. It seemed that may be the case and he was unable to move on. (At least, in her _expert_ opinion.)

Duncan can't really blame her, as he stares at his feet. It's strange for him to think of it, too. He twists his ring around his finger, the smooth, warm contact of metal calming him down. "Her name was Alexia." He paused. "Alexia Serenity Hiotani." His lips upturned in a smile. "She hated her name, she thought it made people undermine her and her job. We all called her Lexi."

The name seemed familiar-- perhaps a news report or a minute article in the paper. She usually had such a good memory, but she drew a blank here. "Go on." Her hands never left her lap, not once moving to take notes.

Duncan thought this strange. The shrink, just listening? He continued on, anyway, shaking the thought from his mind. "She was in the intelligence department-- she never actually fought but she trained for it, anyway. She was really good at what she did. She was a good cook, but not great. She was short-- annoyingly so. I had to pick her up and still she had to crane her neck to kiss me." He stopped, looking down. "Her hair was dark blonde and she didn't tan, she freckled."

He stopped for a second. She nearly asked him if he was done.

He smiled, pained. "She always smelled the same-- like vanilla, cigarettes and some dust. I always loved her eyes. They were a dark green, like the color of pine needles and full of emotion-- they usually looked happy, unless I was bugging her. Then they just look annoyed or somewhat burdened. Laughing, sometimes... but only when she was in a good mood."

He chucked, staring at his feet. He examined the scuffs on his boots-- they would never do in the army, where his shoes were to be shined.

"I guess she was the best thing that happened to me." He finally continued, breathing in.

"What happened to her, Duncan?" She finally asked, her voice soft, low, off guard. It must have seemed like acting to him, but she was geniunely taken aback.

"We were discussing getting married. I had asked her a few months earlier..." He started.

**Walking along the wall of the army base, the couple were on their way to the dining hall-- located squarely in the middle of the large compound. **

**"When we get out of here, I'm going to marry you, Alexia Serenity Hiotani." He simply stated, glancing at her from the corner of his blue eyes. She grasped his hand before twisting it at little. **

**"I told you not to call me that." She smiled, lightly, pulling back a strand of loose hair from her face as they continued to walk. "And I'd very much like to marry you." It was a strange way of speaking, she realized a second later, but it didn't really matter.**

**"To think, only six months left, right?" He smiled, wide and unbelieving.**

**She started to say something, but the roar was deafening.**

**--**

**Days later, Duncan awoke. His leg was in a cast, and, well, so was his other one. He was pretty much covered in the plastery stuff-- arms and legs and neck and around his ribs. The casts were completely white and blaringly bright from the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceilings that seemed to cast as many shadows as they dispelled. The slow, methodical beeping of his heart monitor was the only registerable sound, though it was low and somewhat muted.**

**His head throbbed, but he was more panicked at the fact that he had no idea why he was here. He ran through plausible scenario's-- he was shot down, he had crashed, he had a faulty craft.**

**Nothing came to mind. **

**He continued to listen to the beeps until the nurse came in.**

**"What happened?" He asked, throat scratchy. It was hard to talk. He realized it was hard to breathe, too.**

**The nurse smiled, though it was full of pity. He couldn't stand pity, couldn't stand even the idea of it. He had way too much of it in his life time.**

**"A bomb was dropped on the base you were on. You and a female, Alexia Hiotani, were hit." She said, gently, as if it would break him.**

**It did. "A-- what? What did? Is she okay?!"**

**Her smile grew sadder. "I'm sorry to say she passed away."**

**All he could hear was the beeps of the heart monitor and his own mind repeating the single phrase in his mind: **

_**I lava you, I lava you, I lava you, I lava you, I lava you.**_

He sucked in a breath. "It wasn't the way they told me or even the way she died. It's just that she died but I didn't. That I'm still here."

"She would have wanted it to be that way," Courtney finally said, "She would have wanted you to be happy."

"But I'm miserable now, aren't I?" He countered, putting his face in his hands and wiping away the leaking tears before they actually started to flow. "That was about a year ago. I was discharged from service six months before schedule. My fiance was dead. It was, is, it's the worst part of my life so far."

Courtney sat, silent.

"I've stopped taking my medication." He continued. "It made me irritable."

She was still silent, before finally speaking up. "That isn't wise, Duncan."

"Nothing I've done recently is wise, doc. What else is new?"

He then got up and left her office for the last time.

Courtney hit the stop button on her tape recorder.

**End.**

--

Well, we're over. The epilogue will be up by Monday or Tuesday. Sorry not to fufill the romance end of Duncan x Courtney, but I just didn't feel like it really fit for this story. I apologize, but really. Do you expect him to move on this fast? I don't think so!

I'll probably write a small cute piece of fic tomorrow, probably an actual Duncan x Courtney, to cheer all you guys up. Sorry, once again, for all the angst! I feel so mopey right now.

Ugh, now I got to do my homework. Bye, everyone!

Please, everyone, no flames! :D I don't think my delicate disposition can take them.

-Kate


	5. Epilogue

Flightless Bird, American Mouth

--

Alternate Universe. 2010. At twenty seven years old, Courtney Wells is the most successful War Psychologist in the nation. She's written five books and countless case reports on the damaging subject that is War and how it effects the subject in question.

She's worked with every kind of patient, from prisoners of wars to veterans to honorably discharged soldiers, to those on medical leave and even the wives, husbands and children of those who don't come home, and they've been receptive. But when the subject of her sixth book, Duncan, comes in, he... isn't.

--

**V. Epilogue**

--

Key:

-- Scene break.

**Flashback**

Back to present.

_Book Text_

--

Courtney Wells hadn't taken any patients for the eighteen months after Duncan Silver left her office. Her book was being written-- she never took patients while she wrote and edited her books.

_The man, Duncan Lewis Silver, had a fiance. He had a career. Life was finally shaping up for him._

She smiled, happy to find that her meticulous notes, planning and tapes were coming into effect on these last few pages. But then she remembered what she had to type for the last few sentences.

_In a second, all of these things were taken away from him._

She began typing the interview-- him telling of Lexi and his life with her, the interview from his last visit.

_Duncan Silver managed to live in complete depression and post traumatic stress disorder without his medication for a year-- he had said it make him feel jumpy and anxious. _

_Two years after the death of Alexia Serenity Hiotani, his fiance, and his discharge from the hospital, Duncan Silver committed suicide by a gun shot to the left temple. He was found dead by his older sister, Alice. He was cremated and his ashes were scattered at Alexia's gravesite in Atlanta, Georgia._

She hit enter several times, leaving a large space.

_March 16th, 1984- July 4th, 2011_

Courtney printed off the last chapter and set it up. Placing his obituary over the last words of the book, she held a grim look inside.

It certainly wasn't her first suicide. She doubted it would be her last.

Pushing the last chapter into a manilla envelope with the other chapters, she closed the fold on it.

Standing, she walked over the plush carpet, into the office, handed Veronica the package, and left.

She'd come in next week.

--

End.


End file.
